“Are you okay?” I whispered.
Pure anger flashed across her face.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she snapped.
The tension between us thickened, bitter on my tongue.Why was she mad at me?I felt a confusion I’d never known before.
Backing off, I said, “Okay, well it’s your turn.”
I stood up, slumped back into my chair, crossed my arms. Why that response? Did I disgust her or something?
Just then, she caught my eyes and shot me a full-on glare screaming—I hate you, you fucking prick.Wow. I seriously misread the room.
Dana, the facilitator, cleared her throat.
The mystery girl straightened slightly, chin tilting up as if to silently say,I’m fine, really.
“Umm…My name is Lennon. I have to be here if I want to complete the assisted suicide program, and I don’t have hobbies other than completing this program now.”
Assisted suicide program?
What the fuck?
Why was she involved in something like that?
My brows furrowed, a thousand thoughts crashing through my head. How could someone want to die? Was she in unbearable physical pain? Not just the sadness and darkness that gnawed at me sometimes? I needed to know more. I couldn’t leave it like this, wondering why she was here only to check out at the end.
The group droned on with housekeeping and rules, but my mind wasn’t in it.
Lennon.
That name—Lennon—would forever be burned into the frontal lobe of my brain. She was beautiful, spiteful, and utterly an enigma. I wasn’t sure why I felt so drawn to her, but now more than ever, I was determined to share with her the reasons I was still trying to live—despite knowing death was inevitable. How could she so casually say she wanted to check the fuck out?
Everyone else introduced themselves, but outside of Lennon, Dana, and Ashley, I didn’t catch a single name. Damn, I’d better pay better attention next time. Dana wrapped up the group,saying she’d see us Thursday. Chairs scraped and squeaked against the floor in a chorus as everyone got up.
Lennon bolted for the door. Quick. Desperate to escape.
I jogged after her.
“Hey!” I called out, but she didn’t hear me. I didn’t want to startle her by grabbing her shoulder, so when I caught up, I used her name instead. “Lennon, wait up.”
Anxiety seemed to ripple down her spine—her shoulders lifted and her head slumped slightly into her neck. She stopped and tilted her head to the side, clearly unimpressed.
Her ruthless gaze cut into me with pure annoyance. “What?” The sharp emphasis on the ‘t’ made the corners of my mouth lift into a smile. I tried to hide it, but part of me wanted her to know she didn’t scare me. I wouldn’t be pushed away that easily.
I was going to ask her about the suicide program straight up—I really was—but something about that felt stupid. Like that information was hers to share, not mine to pry. Instead, I fumbled, “I, uh…was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch?”
Her lips parted, her glare deepening in those vivid, green eyes. Then a chuckle escaped her, low and dry, right before she shoved past me and kept walking. “No,” she spat.
“No? Why not?” I pleaded, chasing her down again.
“Why not?” she echoed with a sarcastic edge. “How about for starters, it’s fucking 3:00 pm and lunch is over, buddy.”
Oh, so this was how she wanted to play. Well, I was all in for games.
“You know what? You’re right. Dinner it is,” I said, smiling. Her shoulders finally dropped as she shook her head. If I wasn’t imagining things, she was smirking—though she kept her back firmly turned.
I caught up as she slowed her pace and stepped right in front of her. Her expression hadn’t changed, but if anything, she looked even more annoyed.
